


Beneath the Surface

by Morningstar (hismorningstar)



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Chest Binding, Closeted Character, F/M, Inspired by Fanfiction, Post-Season/Series 03, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, binding, health mentions, pls don't do what hardy does he is Not Being Safe, unsafe binding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27396490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hismorningstar/pseuds/Morningstar
Summary: "Hardy often forgot for how long he had been binding; what with his heart problems, his sore ribs just felt like another part of his body that was failing."Set after the series concluded. Hardy does not take care of his health - and sometimes, he just needs a little reminder.
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Ellie Miller, Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Comments: 7
Kudos: 34





	Beneath the Surface

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [In a Bind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27161503) by [IlIcythings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IlIcythings/pseuds/IlIcythings). 



> As noticed, this was inspired by another piece I read here! I really enjoyed the idea of trans!Hardy and how it might impact things. This is just a small scene - and I can't exactly claim any personal knowledge of binding, so please let me know if any of this is inaccurate <3
> 
> This was literally written in a 5am caffeine fuelled mess so if you notice any errors pls lemme know!

Hardy often forgot for how long he had been binding; what with his heart problems, his sore ribs just felt like another part of his body that was failing. Though he had read a hundred articles on why safe binding was imperative, he found it tiresome to listen to. He worked a job that sometimes meant he would be in the station for twelve hours – it was impossible to only bind for six to eight hours, not without someone noticing. He had tried using bandages, or tape, but that had only irritated his skin – and made it nearly impossible to breathe. Alec had found that, so long as he was as careful as he could be, he could just skate by without permanent rib damage. 

Most of this relied on none of the other police noticing. The fact that Hardy was transgender was purposefully not included on any official police records, upon his request. He had pointedly cited that it could potentially make things dangerous for him were it public knowledge, and since it was not a health concern, he had been fine to continue working. Due to the changes of several years of testosterone, no one questioned his masculinity, which was exactly how he wanted it. Chest surgery was in the pipeline – but not something he could quite afford yet – and thus he was stuck binding, hoping that no one was observant enough to catch him out on it.

Miller was wonderfully observant; Hardy had found the longer that he worked with her. She had a knack for realising things, which was wonderful in their line of work. Though, sometimes, it was bloody infuriating. “Sir,” she had said gently, bringing a cup of tea into the office. “It’s getting close to eleven. Why don’t you put that away, try and get some rest? You’re working yourself to the bone.” She was right – she always was. Gently, a cup of tea was set on the only spot of free space on the desk. Gratefully, Alec took it.

“Can’t stop now, not when we’re so close. Another couple of hours – we can make it, I am certain.” He stretched a little enthusiastically to return the cup to its spot on the desk, and began coughing. The binder was pressing into his ribs in an uncomfortable manner – “tea went down wrong,” he spluttered, his spare hand grasping at his chest a little. After a little desperate coughing, Alec’s breath evened out again, and he sighed. This thing needed to come off – but that was impossible, not whilst he was under Miller’s watchful eye. Judging from her expression, that watchful eye would not stop until she saw him home.

“Are you alright?” Her concern piqued in her tone, and she reached out to support his arm, as if it were the only thing she could think to do. He swatted her arm away, but she held firm. “Is your heart playing up again? I thought the pacemaker would fix that?“ it was clear that his excuse of choking on tea had not worked. 

“It’s nothing, alright? No need to worry yourself.” Hardy’s stoic expression did not waver, and he continued to look at his papers. “Listen, if I can’t find anything in the next hour, I will consider returning home.” He sighed, and then began to cough again. However much Alec hated to admit it, he was likely not going to be able to continue that night. His body needed rest – was screaming for it. A cursory glance at Miller revealed that her brows were at risk of jumping from her face. She certainly was concerned about him. “Fine,” he growled. “Fine, I’ll go home.” Miller’s eyes lightened at that, and she pre-emptively flicked off the light in Hardy’s office, leaving him to gather his things without the assistance of the bulbs.

Once Hardy had his coat on, Miller walked with him to the car park, an unexpected bounce in her step. “Will you tell me what’s bothering you?” She asked lightly, nodding towards his chest. “You’ve been coughing like that all week. Have you been smoking?”

“What? No,” Alec pulled at his jumper a little. “No, just, erm,” his exhausted state led him to struggle in pulling up one of his standard excuses. In fact, it had been so long since someone had asked that his mind was drawing the most unfortunate blank. “I have a cold.” He settled on. Perhaps the worst excuse ever – but it was all he could think of.

Miller was certainly not convinced, judging from her frown, but she dropped it. “I don’t want you dropping dead on me, alright? Your bloody heart gave me enough of a fright.” She touched his shoulder – an unexpectedly warm gesture. “If you need something, you can tell me. It won’t kill you.” 

Alec smiled, despite himself. “Thank you, Miller.” He did not intend to tell her – certainly not there. But the warmth in her genuine compassion, it made him feel a little less alone. “I appreciate it.” He fished his car keys from his pocket and waggled them at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, aye?”

“See you tomorrow, sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading! I might extend this a little if I get the time, but no promises. Do let me know if you have any feedback! And thank you again to IlIcythings for their lovely work <3


End file.
